Lost in Fire
by Metronome I Hear
Summary: Tsuna has spent the last 8 years bathed in blood and fighting for his life. That changes when the facility he lives at is destroyed and he escapes. Now found by friends of his old family, he finds he must ask himself a very important question. Who is he? OOC!Tsuna, Slightly-Insane!Tsuna, Not-Decimo!Tsuna, Slight-Multiflame!Tsuna


**Disclaimer: I known nothing.**

**Hello there! So I was reading 'A Bloody Sky' by ****_Hweianime_**** and it made me remember this one old fic I had sitting in the back of my computer. So I pulled the thing up, re-did what I have finished, changed the plot around a little bit, and then decided to post it here. I suppose that you could say that it is inspired by 'A Bloody Sky' since that fic is what made me remember the damn thing, and the background to the story is similar to how 'A Bloody Sky' starts out too, so you'll probably notice some similarities between the two plots if you look.**

**There is some information you need to know before you start reading! **

**Tsunayoshi has a brother named Ienari that is older than him by 1 year. That brother is chosen for Vongola Decimo. Tsuna was kidnapped at age 5, and escaped 8 years later at age 13. Ienari is 14. Ienari takes the place of Cannon Tsuna. The ages of the 10th gen stays the same, the sole exception being Ienari. Tsuna escapes while Ienari is handling Mukuro, so the start of the story is before the Varia arc.**

**Any words and/or phrases in languages other than English was translated using Google Translate. If you see something incorrect, please let me know!**

**Thats all you need to know! Enjoy!**

**WARNING! OOC!Tsuna, Crazyish!Tsuna, Not-Vongola-Decimo!Tsuna, Mentions of Violence**

* * *

**Tsunayoshi**

* * *

He hated it.

He hated the cheers around him, egging him on and yelling at him to go _faster_, hit **harder**, and put on more of a _show_ because it's no **_fun_** to watch unless both the fighters are covered in the other's blood.

He hated the dust that filled the air, uprooted from its place on the ground by worn bare feet moving around to avoid attack after _attack_ and to dish out attacks of their own.

He hated the congratulations that he received when he stared at the other's dead _mutilated_ body on the floor that he had just _beaten_ to death for their **entertainment**.

He hated the food he was given that didn't taste of anything but he ate it anyways because if he didn't eat he was going _to die_ and he was going to **live** _damn it_, or he would come back to haunt **everyone** in the afterlife.

He hated the people that came to watch him, with their **pretty** _dresses_ and **expensive** _suits_ that stood around, whispering to one another behind closed doors about **stabbing** one another in the _back_.

And most of all, he hated **himself** for enjoying the fights and the adrenaline _rush_ that he got when the gates opened and he stepped forward, gloves on and _sadistic_ grin sliding out on his face as he laughed in pure **_glee_** at _killing_ his opponent.

A _natural born killer_ they called him.

He hated that name too.

But still, he fought, **day** after **day** and _night_ after _night_ until his bones _shattered_, his arms _refused_ to work, and he _passed out_ from blood loss. Then when he woke up again, he would get out of the bed with bloodstained sheets and walk across the cracked dirt floors and exit the room that was both his prison and his home to start fighting **_again._**

He remembered a time when he had a home, a loving mother and a brother. They were all so kind, even the father who was hardly ever home would smile and greet him, calling out the name he had long since forgotten, whenever the man came home. He remembered a time, back when he first woke up in this _hell_, that he would cry out their names and _beg_ them to come for him. To rescue him from this place before he was too **tainted** to turn back.

He didn't anymore.

He stopped after the first day that he killed someone. It was one month after he first woke up in the dark cage. It was one month after they started him on a hellish training regimen saying '**_Do it and get strong or die like the dog you are.'_** It was during one of the spars that they forced them to do. They were supposed to use knives and his opponent was attacking him with _everything_ he had and his own knife just _slipped_ a tiny bit. At the time he supposed that he was supposed to have felt horrified at what he had done and who he had become '_a 5 year old killer' _but he was too busy admiring the red that stained his hands and ran down his fingertips. He had brought his fingers up to his lips and licked it in a moment of **insanity** and all he could think was_ 'I want to do it again.'_

It hadn't took long to earn the name 'Porcelain Demon' after that.

Because he was. No one was crueler or enjoyed the fight more than he did. No one sought out the blood and listened to the crowd's shouts of _'Kill it! Kill it! Kill it!'_ more than he did. And even after all the blood that he had spilled, even after he had painted the arena red, and made art out of their bones and intestines, he never looked like anything other than a porcelain doll.

His skin was pale from lack of any _natural_ light. His hair, dyed red with artificial dye and often with _fresh_ blood, was _soft_ and at a length many girls wore it at. His frame was thin like a _dancer's_ and he was short. He gave the impression of someone _weak_ and **helpless**, of someone who **needed** to be saved, right up to the moment that he **_ripped_** another's throat out with nothing other than his _hands_ or sliced someone in two with a sword.

Over the years, he had mastered the use of a wide variety of weapons. All sorts of blunt and sharp objects. _They_ would sometimes put him and some of the other fighters in an arena littered with weapons and he found himself _loving_ those moments because there he could truly go **wild**. His favorite weapon of all though, was **_fire_**.

It had always came to him easily. The orange, purple, and red fire that burns anything that he asks them too. And using those three flames, he only reinforced his title as '_Demon_'.

There came a day, one time nearly 8 years after he first woke, that the entire place was filled with screams and gunfire and the scent of blood that came to him even locked away in his room. But no one came, and he was too injured to move, so he stayed in his room and laughed, his voice high pitched and near hysterical as he listened to the songs of battle that played outside his walls. Days passed by since that incident and no one came to check on him. His food was no longer delivered, and his water no longer replaced. And when he healed, he kicked down his door to find the entire facility drenched in blood and not a single person still alive.

After finding that he wasn't going to get any more fights here, he wandered. He wandered outside, eyes lazily watching everything around him. All the people who had no idea who he was or what he could do. It made him near giddy at the thought.

He wandered around town and stole food from the stands, never bothering to look at exactly what it was that he was eating, only stopping to check that it was edible and to appreciate that it had much more flavor than the junk his jailers had fed him. In between meals, he hid himself in alleyways and watched the people that passed him by, picking out who was strong and who wasn't. He listened into their conversations and found out he was somewhere in Italy.

He made his way across the city, steeling new clothing and food as he went along until he finally reached the edge of the city, but not the road, and kept walking. He kept walking and watching the sun rise and fall and following the intuition that screamed at him to go in that direction.

He kept walking and walking and walking until his strength gave out and he grinned to himself, listening to far off shouts of surprise as someone appearing out of seemingly nowhere. And where he lay on the ground he smiled up at the blonde man with blurry features that stood over him and whispered, **"I'm here."** Before allowing himself to fall into the sweet embrace of unconsciousness.

* * *

**Dino**

* * *

Dino was unlucky.

It was as simple as that. When he was young, he was always picked last and was constantly left out. He was clumsy, even if he wished to think otherwise, and wasn't a good boss without his subordinates around. Even after his father died and left him with an entire famagilia and sent Reborn to train him, he found his luck never got better. He was constantly put into situations that he had no idea how to handle, and yet managed to handle it anyways due to the support of his family and, even though he hated to admit it at the time, Reborn. His luck didn't get better even after he completed the trial Reborn set up for him where he earned his nickname 'Bucking Horse Dino'

That's why when a young boy with long red hair collapsed on the front lawn of his Famagilia's base, he wasn't surprised. He wasn't even surprised when he looked the boy in the face to see eyes of pure gold dim into chocolate brown set in a face he had seen only two places before. The picture of Vongola Primo that hung in the Vongola Boss's office, and his honorary brother Ienari's face.

He immediately took a blood sample and sent it to the labs to be tested, then took the boy up to one of the many guest rooms and ordered two of his doctors to come and take a look at the boy. After checking up on him, they found his suffering from starvation, and flame over usage. The doctors told Dino that the boy had likely been using his flames to keep awake and moving for days on end. The thought scared him. He wondered what would drive a person to do such a thing.

In the end, they put the boy on a drip and waited for him to wake up.

Three days after they first found the boy, he finally woke up. Dino, Romario, the two doctors, and four of his other subordinates were in the room at the time, and everyone held their breath as the tiny figure groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes with one hand. The boy set his hand down in his lap and looked briefly over everyone in the room, before settling his eyes on Dino. It seemed the boy had picked the man out as the leader.

They all shifted slightly as the boy scanned the room, not liking the feeling they got when he slid his eyes over them. It was as if all their secrets were being laid bare and this boy, this _child_, would be able to destroy them all with just what he saw at that first glance. The silence that reigned over the room was broken but a moment later, when their boss coughed awkwardly.

"Well…. Welcome back to the waking world I suppose…." He said in Italian, assuming that that was what the boy spoke.

The boy tilted his head a bit to one side and didn't say anything. Silence reigned the room once more.

"Um…. What's your name?" Dino asked, cautiously, "Mine's Dino. I'm Dino Cavallone the Chiavarone Decimo."

"Name?" The boy tested the word on his tongue. It felt foreign and strange so he frowned, "I don't have a name."

Dino frowned a bit, feeling out of his depth, "Um… Then… Do you have something you want to be called? Any…. Nicknames?"

The boy shook his head, "No. There is the Title _they_ gave me but I hate that name."

Dino glanced at Romario then back at the boy, "Then what do you want us to call you? We can't exactly call you 'boy' or 'kid' all the time."

The boy sat there, silent for a moment, before saying, "Call me whatever you want."

Silence settled in on the room again before Dino sighed, giving up, "Um… Are you hungry?"

The boy glanced around the room once more before nodding. Dino made a gesture and one of the men in suits left to inform the cooks.

"Well…. Senza nome, how did you get here?" Dino asked, then immediately regretted it when he spotted the smile that made its way onto the boy's face. It reminded Dino of Reborn when he got one of his 'ideas'

"There was fight. It would have been beautiful, I know and I wish I could have seen it. The sounds were music to my ears. It went on for hours, on till the people screaming couldn't scream anymore and the bang of gunfire disappeared. It ended with red everywhere and silence. Pure silence that I haven't ever heard. Not a mouse or a peep. No breath taken. Just silence. I left and I walked and walked and walked and walked," The boy rambled on, "On till I couldn't walk anymore and fell." He got a dreamy look in his eyes, "I fell into darkness's embrace, and woke up here."

Everyone in the room stared at him in shock, watching the emotions that flashed across the boy's face. One made the mistake of looking him in the eye and nearly fled the room in terror at what he could see. Pure fire, and a darkness that would consume even the strongest of men should they lose their grip.

Just then, Dino's phone rang, breaking the silence that had once again descended upon the room.

Dino took a shuddering breath, then stood up, "I need to take this. Romario?"

The right-hand nodded and the two left the room. Dino went down the hallway and ducked into the next room before taking out his phone to take the call.

"Cavallone here."

_"We have the results back."_

"And?"

_"It's positive. He is Tsunayoshi. Shall we inform Reborn?"_

"No. I'll inform him that his new student's brother is found. I'll let Vongola Nono know as well."

_"Alright."_

"Is there anything else you found?"

_"Nothing of note."_

"Alright. Bye."

Dino hung up and immediately dialed another number. It rung for a moment before clicking, _"What is it, Baka-Dino?"_

"I found him."

_"Found who?"_

"The missing brother. But you're not going to like the state that he's in. He doesn't know what his name is and who knows where he's been these last 8 years. He's most certainly not innocent anymore. I recognize a killer when I see one and Tsunayoshi is a prime example of one."

_"… How did you find him?"_

"He came up to the mansion and collapsed. I was outside at the time and saw him, so I ran over just in time to hear his last words before fainting. He said 'I'm here' with the happiest look on his face that I've seen on anyone's face in ages. We brought him inside and I sent a bit of blood to be tested because I noticed the similarities between him and Ienari. It just came back positive."

_"Send me the Medical Reports."_

"Already done."

_"Have you informed Nono yet?"_

"No. I was going to inform him after I called you."

_"… Call him now. I need to think."_

Then Reborn hung up. Dino stared at the phone for a moment, lips pursed in thought, before he dialed the number Nono gave him.

_"Cavallone, what seems to be the problem?"_

"I found Tsunayoshi Sawada earlier today."

He was met with silence on the other end, then Nono's voice came, quietly.

_"How is he?"_

"Alive, but not very good. I don't know where he's been for the last 8 years, but it certainly hasn't been good."

_"Does Iemitsu know yet? That his son has been found?" _

"No. Outside of my men, just you and Reborn have been told as of yet."

_"I see. I will call him and let him know. Take good care of Tsunayoshi, alright?"_

"I will."

There was a click as the older man hung up on Dino. Dino closed his phone and grimaced, looking in the direction of the room that Tsuna lay asleep in. He sighed and hung his head, running a hand through his hair.

"Romario?"

"Yes, Boss?"

"I don't know what to do…. What do I do?"

Romario bowed his head as well, "I don't know, Boss."

* * *

**Senza nome**\- Nameless in Italian

**Well, thats that! Let me know what you think and if I should continue in a review.**


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